I walk outside and am on camera: in the hallway and elevator of my building, while passing shops, and waiting at crosswalks. My mobile phone connects to cell towers and wifi, another log of my position and movements. Apps are keeping tabs and phoning home with telemetry. Electronic toll-collection passes and plate-reading cameras record my drive to the transit center. My transit pass pinpoints me in space and time while an RF ID badge records when I get to work and where I am in the building.
When I finally log into my computer, blocking ads, opting out of tracking, or limiting 3rd party cookies makes me feel ...
Goat (masked hard rock outfit from Sweden) gives the best interviews.
Their current album, Requiem, is their best yet, he says, “because it is longer”. On stage tonight, the anonymous girl vocalists sing-shout, raw and in unison, while executing joyously amateur dance moves. They wheel about in large squares of material, like children wrestling with empty duvet covers.
I ask him what it takes to be a member of Goat. “Nothing. You could be a member if you like. Just start making music in a mask.”
A bunch of technomancers in the fediverse. Keep it fairly clean please. This arcology is for all who wash up upon it's digital shore.